


Burn to the Ground

by belana



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Fandom Kombat 2014, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Pre-Canon, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 02:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3158630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belana/pseuds/belana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Aerys Targaryen has high hopes for his Hand. Said Hand is not eager to fulfill them, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn to the Ground

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Дотла](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2617439) by [MaShShka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaShShka/pseuds/MaShShka). 



> Thanks to Elnarmo for beta-reading.

"Bring me your father's head!"

Jaime Lannister doesn't move. He's just standing there with his right hand on the sword hilt as if he's the white statue of Warrior in Baelor's Sept.

"Tywin! Lannister's! Head!" Aerys Targaryen shrieks and hides his face in his hands.

* * *

Under the cover of the camp tent water slides off the shoulders of young Tywin, and Aerys licks his lips. A full pitcher is brought to him, so Aerys could wash his hands and face before sleep, wipe off dirt and blood of the latest battle.

The vain attempts of overseas pretenders to take over are laughable and counts less than nine pennies. The rebels will soon lose their leaders; and what his grandfather, Aegon V, didn't finish, his father, Jaehaerys II, will. Thanks to his young warriors — a dragon and a lion. Aerys speaks of it with his eyes bright while Tywin has a frugal supper, prepares for sleep, unfolds his bed and adds more kindlings into the hearth. Only then Tywin looks at him gravely and says, "We will need strength tomorrow, my prince. Don't waste it tonight describing events that haven't happened yet."

Aerys grimaces and huffs. He's the heir to the Iron Throne, and he's kind enough to bestow his attention on the Westerlands lord's son. He's kind enough to talk to him till dawn, to watch as he wearily closes his eyes and folds thin sinewy arms covered with golden hair behind his head. Aerys Targaryen is willing to spend a whole night in the scarlet tent, but Tywin Lannister coldly says, "Excuse me, my prince," — and falls silent.

Aerys jumps up and paces the length of the tent, then leaves despite his wishes. He leaves Tywin Lannister again and again even though he's ready to throw common sense to the wind and stay with him. He also wants to spite him, to do anything to make this golden statue notice him.

Tywin is only a year older than Aerys, but that's no reason to ignore the future king. Aerys doesn't take disregard kindly. Only Tywin Lannister looks at him with mere boredom, and only Tywin Lannister has Aerys's undivided attention — from the first day they met at the war. Each time Aerys stands at the entrance of the tent decorated with golden lions he is anxious and desperately angry. The pattern continues each time their paths cross later at the Red Keep.

When the War of the Ninepenny Kings is over Aerys knows for sure that this man is the only one worthy of him, the Dragon King.

The first thing he does as a king is sending for for Tywin Lannister right away.

"I want you to help me rule the Kingdom as the Hand of the King."

He makes the proposition, and there is no expected calm solemnity in his voice.

"With pleasure, Your Majesty," his lion answers. Aerys's heart is beating wildly with joy.

"I want you to be close to me," the young king says triumphantly as if Tywin Lannister is already living in his house, as if he's almost sleeping in King's bed.

Tywin raises his eyebrows and remarks politely, "I'd like to finally introduce my bride to the court."

A lioness! Aerys clenches his fists, a victory turns bitter as if the best dish of the royal cook was poisoned. He's ready to tear both of them — the maid and Tywin — to pieces because he knows for sure: Tywin is more likely to decline the post than abandon his cousin. Oh no, though, the lion will have both.

Joanna has pale eyebrows, color high in her cheeks, golden hair and deep voice. While Aerys almost squeaks when he's angry.

"Get out!" he screams at the servant who approaches him with a hairbrush.

Aerys looks in the mirror and compares, endlessly compares. He's handsome, many people note that: piercing eyes, long hair white as snow, regular features. But Tywin Lannister doesn't care for his face!

During the wedding feast Tywin covers the bride's hand with his own. No matter that everything in the kingdom should belong to the king! Aerys can't bear it any longer, he rises and toasts staring at the bridesgroom's inscrutable face.

"...it's a pity that your king has no right of the first night!"

Guests are embarrassed, and they laugh tensely: the bride is indeed so gorgeous that even the king can lose his mind. Tywin Lannister gives him a baleful stare. Aerys is sure he understands everything. Tywin is more clever and discerning than most people, it's impossible to hide anything from him.

So Aerys stops hiding. He's furious, he growls into the pillow at night imagining the lions winding into one golden entity in the Tower of the Hand. Then he visits his own wife. In the morning Rhaella counts new bruises and hides her tears. But they don't compensate for the all the insults Tywin Lannister makes every day!

What are the cries of executed criminals (burned alive, quartered, locked in cages under the Sun) to the Hand absorbed in meaningless numbers and notes, who is hardened in his haughtiness and indifference toward his royal patron! Aerys comes to his rooms and cries too. He finds an excuse. He demands money, Tywin lends the crown the riches of Castamere and Casterly Rock without showing pride or annoyance.

Aerys tries to be kind, he grants Tywin expensive presents, says things that should be flattering, agrees with every proposal, tries not to breathe in his presence in case it offends him.

Soon Tywin Lannister learns to use it to his own advantage, though. Aerys almost misses the moment when the courtiers start to whisper about the betrothal between Tywin's young daughter and prince Rhaegar.

Aerys won't tolerate another yellow-maned in his house! His refusal is meant to hurt like a slap. He comes to Tywin and stomps his feet, he can't be pacified. Tywin Lannister narrows his emerald-green eyes and looks at the king as if Aerys's mad.

"I won't let you do as you please! I am your king, and you're just a servant, do you hear me? My servant! You're mine, mine!" Aerys shrieks. Then he goes quiet and leans with his forehead on the bedpost supporting the canopy.

He glances at the bed and whispers feverishly breathing hard, "You are mine, Tywin Lannister, mine. Why is everything wrong?"

"You are not well, Your Majesty," Tywin says. His voice is hard, he speaks of royal madness as if it were a death sentence.

"You are talking to a dragon!" Aerys flares up again.

Tywin only sighs impatiently and turns away. Aerys is embarrassed and horrified. He thinks his own people who witnessed this terrible scene laugh at him and hate him. That they are ready to betray and to kill him.

Infuriated Aerys sends five people to the stake (three guards who stood at the doors to the Hand's rooms, a servant and a young cupbearer). The news spreads around the country. Aerys greedily gathers the rumours, chokes on them like it's his favourite dish. Rumour has it that the king is mad, that Tywin Lannister rules the country. Aerys hates Tywin Lannister. One word from him, and the golden-haired head will adorn the city gates, but there is no better councilor in the realm.

Anger and fear, unhealthy desire and jealousy tear Aerys from the inside. And he can't keep his mouth shut when Joanna Lannister dies in childbirth.

"Now I don't have to share you with anyone. You are mine!" he says and meets Tywin's eye.

And holds it for as long as he can. Then he covers his face with his hands: doesn't matter what he says, doesn't matter how long he waits, he can't have Tywin. The realisation is painful and scary.

Aerys does his best so the Hand has no rest. He can't control his emotions, one day he seeks Tywin's company, the next he almost runs away from the capital in order to resolve the conflict with the Duskendale personally. The matter seems trivial, but grows into a rebellion, the king ends up being a prisoner in the lord Darklin's castle. Aerys is named a guest, he is offered the best quarters and foods, but he raves.

"You will die, snake!" he shrieks at lady Darklin, a woman born in Meereen. "The dragon will devour you!"

Then he huddles in the corner of the room and whispers into clenched fists, "He will come, he will. He'll come and save his king."

Tywin Lannister does come, but he's not eager to attack the castle. Feeling his presence, Aerys calms down for a while. He waits like a maiden from sad ballads and looks at the world through an arrow-slit. He sees no scarlet banners, but prays every night.

Aerys leaves Duskendale six months later, the man approaching Tywin Lannister is completely grey. His knees are shaking, his thin beard is trembling when he reaches out for Tywin. The latter only presses his lips together, though, and says that it was foolish of the king to ignore the Hand's advice.

Aerys almost weeps there and then.

After returning home he suffers from fever. He's hysterical and doesn't want to see anyone, even the barber is not allowed in. Aerys refuses food, he's sure if he won't have the Lion he'll die.

He follows Tywin through the dark corridors of the Red Keep, presses him into the wall and either spits in his face or kisses him — and always wakes up in the middle of the night in his sweat-covered bed. It seems to him that the dragonfire inside him will never die down.

When he meets Tywin during waking hours Aerys shakes his fists bloodied on the Iron Throne at him and repeats deliriously, "See? Do you see?"

Tywin Lannister silently collects documents (too important to be covered in blood) from the table and calls for a maester.

A day comes when he graciously announces that he has to divest himself from the royal Hand's functions and return to Casterly Rock.

"But I have your boy, right here!" Aerys shouts. Damned tears burn his cheeks, sting cut hands. "You'll return to me! You'll beg me!"

Tywin turns around on the doorstep. Aerys grabs his hair (the hair is tangled, matted) and cries in despair, "You took away my heart!"

Tywin looks at him the way he did his whole life.

"Not the biggest loss for a king," he says quietly.

Then he leaves.

Aerys wished he could sweep away the Iron Throne as easily as he breaks furniture in the Hand’s rooms, but it’s too heavy and huge. Its blades are sharp.

Aerys fidgets on the metal seat, blood runs down his fingers and chins.

The king is willing to hate blood only because scarlet is one of the Lannisters’ colors. He deliberately and mercifully wounds himself, though the pain in the hands doesn’t take his mind off the other pain. Day after day, year after year. He orders the fire to be always lit in his rooms, even at night.

There are fires burning in King’s Landing. Then the rebellion breaks out.

"Burn it to the ground," Aerys whispers and stares blindly into space.

He still sees drops of water running down Tywin Lannister’s golden skin in the candlelight. The warrior pours a bucket of golden fire water on himself.

* * *

"Tywin! Lannister's! Head!" the king shouts at the boy who stands behind the Iron Throne.

The boy stares at him without blinking. Aerys falls silent, sweat forms on his forehead – not anger that makes him sputter causes it, but a stray thought: he’d seen that look before. Emerald-green eyes of his knight are just like his father’s.

"Do you hear me, golden bastard?" the king asks quieter.

He’s almost scared.

Then Jaime steps forward.


End file.
